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 Sep 2018 Amiso Pius
She Writes
Fly
 Sep 2018 Amiso Pius
She Writes
Fly
You were not forged with wings
To spend your life perched upon a branch
Watching the world pass you by
whispers of sea
where the cold storm
gathers in the grey
sky, and the waves
pound the shore
running back
pushing down
arching like
fiery cats,
the ache of the storm
a tearful cloud
the song of
a poem.
thank you to all my friends at this website for their continued support of one of the things i love in this world which is poetry. i've only just realised this is the daily today and i just wish i had more spare time at the moment to write and review. thank you again to everyone.
“i knew it was a crime,
that i was
guilty of loving too hard.”
 Aug 2018 Amiso Pius
Pagan Paul
.
The larks playing on a summer breeze,
and finches darting in betwixt the trees,
my mind is enthralled by what it sees.

A lark lands on my shoulder,
and it sang to me a secret,
I would love to tell it to you,
but I promised I would keep it.



© Pagan Paul (15/08/18)
.
for my muse ;-)
.
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